Sand
by prouvaires
Summary: -She's always been the one.- JonathonxPulchra. Bittersweet, slightly adult themes but nothing graphic.


**Slightly adult themes, but nothing graphic.**

There's so much pain.

That's all he knows: when the pains starts, how strong it is.

He doesn't know when it will stop.

He doesn't know how he can stop it.

No, that's a lie. He does know. He knows that if he can persuade Pulchra to run away with him, to abandon everything like Flaccus did for Flavia, then the pain will stop.

He always knew she would be the one. That moment on the beach where the waves of shame and guilt dragged him under, and she pulled him back by kissing him and making him feel himself again – that was it. The scent of her hair, of her skin, of the flowers from the garland that tangled in her hair and his as they tumbled together on the sandy beach. The sound of her gasping his name, the feel of her body against his – that's what saved him, really. Not Flavia, Nubia, Lupus, his family … just her.

He knows that if her father ever finds out what they did he's better off dead, but Jonathon doesn't care. He needs her to pull him out again, to save him from drowning. He's dreading Flavia's wedding, but so excited for it he can hardly breathe. He doesn't want to see her, looking beautiful and happy and with a child already. But just to see her – that will ease the aching longing within him a little, and maybe make it easier to cope with the horror of killing twenty thousand people, and the terrible disappointment that floods him every time his quest for Popo comes to another dead end.

He's part of the matrimonial procession – he misjudges and gets back in time to be included. He keeps his head down, shoulders slumped, as Flaccus leads them to his bride. Jonathon hates the total happiness of the man walking alongside him, but he won't sour his best friend's happiest day, even if he can't appreciate how amazing this day is for her.

Flaccus and Flavia expel everyone from their room, and Jonathon heads for the peace and quiet of the moonlit garden. He slides down the trunk of one of the lemon trees and breathes in the sharp scent, remembering that first summer at the Villa Limona, where it was all about the sun and the sea and happiness and love. Well, until Flavia got them kidnapped by getting herself involved in some ridiculous mystery.

Jonathon can't help a small smile at the memory.

"Denarius for your thoughts?" a soft voice says quietly, with a hint of laughter, and Jonathon jumps. The gentle scent of jasmine reaches him, and he sighs.

"Pulchra," he says quietly, acknowledging her. She slips out of the shadows and sits down next to him, arranging the folds of her blue dress around her.

"How are you?" she asks, her fingers playing with a stray flower plucked from her garland. He shifts away from her slightly.

"Been better," he replies indifferently, trying to ignore what her proximity is doing to him. She abandons all pretences and throws the flower to the ground.

"Jonathon, please! Don't be like this."

He scowls, and still won't look at her. "Like what?"

There are tears in her voice now, and her hand reaches to clutch at his arm. "We were just children then, Jonathon. There was never any chance it could go anywhere … no matter how we felt about each other!"

He doesn't reply, until her warm fingers slide around to his chin and tug his face round to look at her. Her blue eyes, navy in the darkness, are liquid with tears, but blazing with passion and certainty.

"Please, Jonathon," she whispers, and he thinks she's probably going to say more, but he kisses her anyway. Her hands move to his neck instinctively, to pull him closer, before she remembers that she can't do this.

"No," she commands, pushing him away. "I'm married now, I have a child. I can't do this."

"Pulchra." His voice is soft, persuasive, and he looks at her with all the love and desire he can muster. "Just forget them all. Just for tonight. Let's just be children again."

She wavers, her lips trembling, and he can read on her face just how much she wants to. His arms slide around her back as he moves closer to her.

"No-one will ever know, amore. It'll just be you and me and the night."

He has her firmly secure now, and she's not resisting. Her eyes, so undecided before, suddenly have resolve in their depths, and she kisses him, hard.

They stumble to the ground, hands pulling at hair and clothes and groping at bare skin. They move together on the sandy floor, and all Jonathon can remember is that night on the beach, before he lost what little he had left.

The silver moonlight makes a myth out of them, the two lovers who can never see each other again after this moment. The scents of jasmine and lemon mingle around them as they give each other everything they have left to give.

She leaves quickly when they're through. She gathers up her clothes, dresses herself. As she turns to go, he catches her hand and plants a soft kiss on her now swollen lips.

"I love you," he confesses quietly. She just nods.

"I know. I wish you didn't. It makes it so much harder for me to walk away from you."

But she walks away anyway. He watches her move into the lamplight, the spell of the moonlight finally letting her go. Loving her hurts him so much, but he can't not love her, it's a part of who he is now. He knows she'll never do for him what Flaccus did for Flavia, but he can hope.

That's all he can do.

Hope.

---

**So, I'm screwing around with all the different pairings now. Hope you enjoyed this one. **


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